East Side NewsGIRLS!
by pajamadrive
Summary: Newsgirls, for the most part, are largely underestimated. That is, until the strike breaks out and the boys need the GIRLS to help them!
1. Welcome to the East Side

A/N: Just a quick intro to this story. More will be explained in future chapters. How the midget became leader, etc. This fic will take place before, during, and after the strike. The strike and the girls' role in it is actually a big part of the story. Yay, right? Sorry this intro sucks but I had to put something up, yanno. And yeah the East Side is just a part of Manhattan, I know, but I'm just assuming that Jack kind of just relinquished 'power' over there when the girls took over. And I don't know if there's already a fic out there like this, 'cause I'm really just too lazy to check so what-ev. I'm not knowingly copying anyone.

Disclaimer: Obviously, I don't own Newsies or anything related to it. If I did, well... um, yeah, I really wouldn't waste my time writing fics for the likes of you... just kidding, dearest! Don't sue me, please, my lawyer is vacationing in Aruba!

In the glory days of newsiedom, there were great leaders. Spot Conlon ran Brooklyn with an iron fist. Jack Kelly endeared himself to the newsboys of Manhattan. Smarty Russo intimidated his way to the top in the Bronx (though that didn't really make him great...).

Unfortunately, there seemed to be a pattern. The great newsie leaders all happened to be... well. Boys. And the girl newsies, what few of them there were, soon grew tired of it.

Subsequently, they took action.

Newsgirls, young and younger, met in secret and meticulously planned their revolt. Votes were tallied and they chose their location. Funds were raised and they bought apples (revolution makes you hungry). And finally, a leader arose. Seemingly from nowhere, a pint-sized Russian immigrant with messy brown hair and elfin features came to power and led the newsgirls in their mission to establish female influence in the newsie world.

They took the East Side Lodging House for Newsboys and chased off those who objected to a female superior. Those who stayed soon came to understand and support the female plight. The refugees fled to other territories and spread the word about the new head honcho in the East Side.

It wasn't long before newsgirls made themselves scarce in Brooklyn, Harlem, etc. They found a safe haven under the watchful eye of Pavla Lebedyenko, Slavic newsgirl leader extroardinaire. Russia, as the girls came to call her, used her feminine wiles, quick wit, and sharp eye to keep hold of the newly-gained ground as several attempts by sexist newsboys to thwart her took place. None succeeded, facing strong opposition from the female population of the newsie society. It became rather clear that anyone who opposed 'Russia' wasn't 'getting any' anytime soon.

And so, girls reined supreme in the East Side. Jack Kelly's boys accepted the girls quickly, even becoming friendly. Brooklyn chose to ignore them on principle. Reception across the boroughs was rather varied, some creating close ties with the girls and others growing quite hostile. Altogether, they were just kind of ... there. They didn't really matter to anyone and they weren't considered a threat after the initial backlash. Very little respect and attention was actually paid to the girls, though they accomplished a feat considered almost impossible before they, you know, accomplished it.

This caused bitter feelings in quite a few hearts, namely Russia Lebedyenko's. After all they had done, coming out on top in a male-dominated society, they were still regarded as delicate little girls, being humored more than acknowledged.

Soon, though, their day would come, and the boys would come to realize that the girls could do anything they could do better. 


	2. Delanceys, Running, and Tibby's, Oh My!

Being the leader and all, Russia felt a certain amount of responsibility for all of her girls, even the ones she didn't get along with. But it was awfully hard not to laugh when they got themselves into trouble. 

Like at that particular moment, in the prime of Spring 1899, when Fire, Ice, Trip, and Morgen came barreling down the street towards Russia, who happened to be guilting a wealthy couple into buying her last paper of the afternoon edition. She remained expressionless after the couple walked away and as Trip and Morgen each took an arm and dragged her into an alley across the street with Fire and Ice hot on their heels.

Shrugging their hands away, Russia plopped leisurely onto a crate and observed the four breathless newsgirls, who were semi-collapsed over a number of crates across from her.

After a beat to let them catch their breath, Russia sighed and asked, "What did you do, now? Don't tell me you stole Jack Kelly's hat again because if I have to deliver one more ransom note I'm gonna-" "No, Russia, it ain't like that," Ice cut in, "We were just done sellin', me and Fire, and we saw Trip and Morgen so we were all walkin' back to the LH and we see the Delanceys!" Ice, a ten-year-old brunette, looked to her twin, Fire, to continue setting the record straight. "Guuuys," Russia whined before Fire could add anything, "Whyyyy the Delanceys?"

"They deserved it! See, Morris tried to be all high and mighty and told us we was lousy and we should stop trying to do a man's job, so Morgen called them ugly and said they were the ones who should stop trying to do a man's job, yeah so Oscar went to grab her but Fire kicked 'im where the sun don't shine and Trip dropped her apple and then she tripped over it and accidentally head-butted Morris so then we ran!"

Ice finally stopped to take a breath, while Fire, Trip, and Morgen nodded and added their two bits. "I kicked him good, too!" "They looked so ugly when they were stomping around and yelling!" "My head hurts..."

Russia blinked, then sputtered slightly before she completely burst out laughing. The twins gave her identically cross looks, while Trip massaged her forehead and Morgen smiled like a madwoman (as per usual).

Russia looked up at the sky unforgivingly as her laughter faded. "Looks like rain," she mused, squinting and focusing on the clouds. "I hope not! We were going to spy on..."

Morgen trailed off as Oscar and Morris Delancey rounded the corner. "You're dead, newsgirl!" Morris pointed a crooked finger at Fire, who stood only a little taller than Russia (who was really quite small), as he hollered and charged towards them. The girls squealed in unison before hopping from their perches and taking off down the other end of the alley, out into the adjacent street, knocking crates down left and right as they went to provide obstacles for their pursuers.

"Where are we going?" Trip hollered over the noise of their pounding footsteps. "Tibby's! They won't do anything there!" Morgen suggested. "Yeah," Russia agreed and added, "Who knew scum could run so fast?" "Are you talking about them or us?" Trip giggled as she stumbled over a pebble... or maybe over nothing, really, 'cause that was just as likely. "Both!" Russia giggled shortly.

It seemed a small eternity, though it was really only a few minutes, before the girls reached Tibby's, safe and sound. Morris and Oscar trailed them diligently but could hardly keep up with the spry street girls who were used to running away from ugly men.

The girls burst through the door as a unit, startling almost everyone in the restaurant with the bang as Fire slammed the door shut behind them.

To the girls' great disdain, it was high (after)noon at Tibby's and newsboys were everywhere. The servers and dishwashers were running around like mad and Russia was lucky to spot an empty, uncleared table, near the back, while everyone in the restaurant who wasn't female (which was pretty much everyone except for, you know, them) stared at the quintet.

Russia turned about and faced away from the newsboys as she spoke quietly to Trip, Morgen, and the twins. "There's a table in the back; don't talk much to anyone and we'll leave as soon as the Delanceys are gone, okay?" She recieved four nods of accordance.

Of course, it happened to be Russia's unlucky day and Jack Kelly himself decided to greet them at the door. He placed himself precisely in Russia's way, leaning against the back of Kid Blink's chair.

"You lost? Haven't seen you around in a while," Jack smirked at his own sarcasm. "If only we could keep it that way." "Yeah, so, whaddya doin' here, Russia? 'Cause if you're here to cause trouble-" "Spare me. We're just laying low for a while, okay? Some of my girls had a bit of an altercation with the Delanceys and we're waiting it out."

Jack peered around Morgen's head to look out the glass pane of the door, only to see Oscar and Morris standing in the street, gesticulating wildly towards the restaurant and glaring menacingly in it's general direction every few seconds as they presumably argued over what to do.

"You want me to take care of 'em?" Jack's expression fell somewhere in between hostility and concern. "No, that won't be necessary." He sighed and stood up straight. "C'mon, it ain't a big deal-" "We're big girls, we can handle it." "Yeah, I s'pose that's why you're hidin' out in here, right?" "Why don't you mind your own damn business, Cowboy?" Russia pushed past the young man, who was far taller and opposed to hitting girls (though he found the idea very tempting whenever he had a confrontation with one of the feistier newsgirls). Trip tiptoed past the aggravated seventeen-year-old, with Morgen right behind her, giving him a dirty look. Fire and Ice deliberately stomped on his toes as they followed suit.

"Was that necessary?" Russia scolded the twins half-heartedly as the five girls ignored the stares and conversations of the boys. They sat at the table, pushing the dishes that hadn't yet been taken away to the center so they had room. The girls stared at her blankly after they'd settled in their chairs parallel to Russia's, simply replying in unison, "Yes."

It wasn't two seconds later that Dutchy, whom almost all the newsgirls tolerated for Morgen's sake, decided to pop over for a visit. "Good afternoon, little sister. Causing trouble again, I see?" The boy joked, tapping Morgen's forehead playfully. "Owww. And... yeah, kind of," she added sheepishly. Dutchy greeted the other girls briefly, and they all politely returned the gesture. He pulled up a chair from another neighbor (it's former occupant, who had been deposited on the floor, cried indignantly after the chair-nabbing). Squeezing in between Morgen and Russia, Dutchy was treated to a play-by-play of the afternoon's events.

Dutchy frowned disapprovingly at his sister and her friends. "You did nothing to stop this?" He gave Russia an accusing glare. "Stop what? I was twenty blocks over! And it will be taken care of, trust me." She gave each of her girlfriends a brief but menacing glare, promising some sort of verbal whiplashing later, because she really hated to be scolded and/or accused of laziness.

"Morgen, you can't do things like that. When the Delanceys bother you, you ignore them or you come find me, got it?" "Or, you know, I could take care of things myself! You're so overprotective." The arguing went on, though it eventually just evolved into a name-calling match which Morgen won with the help of Fire (and two or three additions from Ice and Trip).

Russia half-listened to the bickering, keeping an eye on the street for the Delanceys.

Fifteen minutes passed, and the newsboys were leaving. Russia announced that it would be the girls' best chance to get away, hiding their faces in the crowd. Morgen, Trip, and the twins said bye to Dutchy before following the leader (...literally) out the door.

With the stealth of oh, say, a printing press, the girls tiptoed farther into the street, only to realize that the Delanceys had gone home.. or somewhere else, but the point was that they were gone. Gleefully, the girls made as much noise and trouble as they wanted to on their way back to the lodging house.

It wasn't a very long walk, but Trip managed to twist her ankle and stub three toes by the time they got to their street.

Russia and Morgen supported Trip, her arms over their shoulders, and took the steps one at a time. Fire and Ice rushed past them and into the sitting room to tell all the girls in the vicinity about their day.

"Whadja break this time, Trip?" Gimmick, a fifteen-year-old brunette, smirked ruefully as she descended the stairs.

"Nothin' I haven't broken before!" Trip quipped. Gimmick ruffled the taller girl's hair as Russia and Morgen deposited her onto a sofa next to Mouse, who was reading a ragged copy of some novel that was missing it's covers.

Morgen skipped off to find Echo, muttering about stolen stockings and honey, while Russia went into the kitchen (which was really just a closet with a woodstove and a basket of semi-rotten fruit and vegetables and half a loaf of bread that had been there since the girls took over) to find a cloth bandage to wrap Trip's ankle.

When she emerged, she was confronted by Tango, who flatly stated, "Catch is looking for you," before moving past her and into the kitchen. "Hopefully she won't find me," Russia mumbled, moving over to Trip.

"Aw, it isn't that bad, Russia. It'll be fine if I just rest it a bit," Trip attempted to wave the girl off. "Let me put this on, just in case," Russia insisted, kneeling on the floor in front of the ratty sofa. Gingerly placing Trip's foot in her lap, Russia carefully wrapped the bandage tightly around Trip's ankle. When she finished, she stood and put her hands on her hips.

"You are more trouble than you're worth," she sighed, shaking her head at Trip. Trip grinned and giggled, "But I'm good for a laugh, so you keep me around!" Russia chuckled shortly before turning to walk away. Unfortunately, Catch chose that exact moment to come hurtling in through the front door and exclaim, "Russia! I've been looking everywhere for you!"

Russia froze and made a face before turning on her heel to face Catch, who was slightly out of breath and leaning against the doorframe.

"Yeah, I heard. What is it?" "You look like hell." "...Thanks." "Well, so, I heard about the Delanceys and the whole fiasco with Fire and Trip and all that-" "You already heard? How?" "We're girls, news travels fast," Irish, who was just passing through, called over her shoulder. "Yeah, okay," Catch waved off the interruption, "Anyway, I think I know how to take care of them once and for all." "Oh, you think so?" "Yeah! Okay, so, we steal Kelly's hat and plant it on Morris. Then we tell Kelly that Morris stole it and Kelly will soak 'em and it's done!" Russia and everyone else in the room, who all felt obligated to listen in to all conversations that went on between Catch and Russia, kind of just stared blankly at Catch. After a beat of silence, Russia placed a hand on her forehead and sighed impatiently. "First of all, Catch. I thought we all had the discussion about stealing Kelly's hat?" Russia looked around at the other newsgirls, "Am I mistaken?" There was a round of flat, disinterested "No"s, as they all remembered the lengthy lecture they'd received before bed almost a month earlier. "So there is the flaw in your masterful plan, Catch," Russia sighed, shaking her head and walking away, subsequently running up the stairs to hide from Catch.

Catch frowned and watched Russia go, slightly confused. "It was a good idea, wasn't it?" She looked to her fellow newsgirls for reassurance. Silver stood and slung a comforting arm around Catch's shoulder and said, "Sure it was, Catch. Russia's just... See, she doesn't... Jack Kelly is... Wanna go to the park and climb trees or something?" "Yeah, sure!" Catch pumped her fist spastically before grabbing Silver's hand and dragging her out of the lodging house.

"That was... two minutes of my life I'll never get back." Scattered laughter followed Gimmick's sarcastic comment before the girls returned to their own conversations (except Mouse, because she'd been reading and missed the whole thing).

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A/N: Ugh I know it sucks, but I just wanted to get this up and let you guys know that I didn't forget you! And all of the characters submitted will have some role in the story, if not now then later on. I really hate writing second chapters, because I just want to like jump into the story and get rolling but it must be done, so here it is. I promise it won't be such a long wait for the third chapter! And if you couldn't tell, stealing Jack's hat kind of becomes a recurring theme in the story. Hehe. And I exaggerated Trip's clumsiness in this chapter, I know, but mostly just for humorous effect! Complaints? Questions? Review, please!


	3. Jailbreak

A/N: Yay! Finally a third chapter. I'm only carrying like five credits this semester so I will have lots more free time to write. I've been ridiculously busy and also just shamelessly neglecting my stories for months. D Sorry. Anyway, here 'tis. Just a bit more filler and fun stuff before the strike begins and whatnot. Please review, even though you hate me for not updating in like five years.

* * *

"Giiiimmick." No answer. "Giiiiiiiimmick." Not a syllable of reply. "GIMMICK!" "WHAT?!" "WAKE UP!"

Playfully cursing Catch, Gimmick brushed a tangled mess of brown hair off of her face and stumbled off to the washroom.

"Wake up, girls! Time to sell! Morning edition, wake up, good morning! Up, up, up! Out of bed! Let's go, gotta sell."

Like a small, sleepy army, newsgirls of varying shapes and sizes marched slowly into the washroom, where Gimmick already stood.

"Fire, get off of my foot." "Morgen, that's my comb!" "Where did my yarn go?" "YUCK, there's a dead spider on the soap!" "Two bits for the one who eats it!" "Gimmick, don't be gross!" "I'll eat it!" "Trip, if you touch that thing, I'll cut your hand off." "Violence!"

The chatter went on as they rushed to be ready for the day. Fire and Ice, ten-year-old twins with attitude, argued heatedly over who got to wear the green hair ribbons until Tango, a tall girl with dark and curly hair, intervened with a second pair of green hair ribbons. Trip stumbled over someone's ragged and untied shoelace, crashing down to the floor and taking the shoelace's owner with her. Trip's face turned a slight shade of pink as she grinned bashfully down at Stress, who was laughing hysterically.

"C'mon, guys, move out," Russia shouted, after a few more minutes of scrambling around.

In a frightful flash, the newsgirls were dressed and ready to go, herding down the stairs and outside into the street.

They moved as a single unit, giggling and gossiping like most girls. It wasn't a very long walk to the distribution center, and very few other newsies frequented the East Side since the "invasion" of newsgirls, so they had no need to hurry, though Russia, leading the pack, set a quick pace regardless.

Faded blue yarn securing her wild, mahogany locks in a frizzy ponytail, Russia chatted amicably with Silver as they walked. Silver, a green-eyed Irish girl of sixteen, spoke earnestly of the show she'd seen at Medda's the night before.

Stress was in the middle of a long, winding tale of how she'd outsmarted the Delanceys once and run them over with a trolley she'd stolen from strikers (Stress had a tendency to exaggerate), when they reached the distribution center. Two or three young newsboys, who could not have been more than ten, were already forming a little queue. They moved out of the way, quickly, though, when they caught sight of Russia making her way towards the gate. They stared at the fabled newsgirl cautiously as she passed them, and were pushed gently to the side by the subsequent onslaught of girls waiting to buy their papers.

"Damnit," Irish muttered. "We need to learn to walk faster," Gimmick moaned, noting that the pair of them were nearer to the end of line than they were the front. "We need to talk less," Catch declared randomly from somewhere behind them. Irish and Gimmick exchanged a queer look before stifling their laughter, for their friend's sake.

"C'mon, what's taking so long? It's five past already!" Russia complained loudly from the front of the line.

As if responding to her directly, the wooden shutters creaked open and Old Mr. Crowley leaned heavily on the counter. "Mornin', Russia! How can I help yeh today?" Russia fished one quarter out of the pocket of her dress, pressed it towards Crowley and smirked. "Fifty papers." "Anything for Russia," he chuckled, turning and calling her order out to the boy working in the back. Russia moved to the left, out of Silver's way, and collected her papers.

She leaned against the wooden wall of the small distribution office and thumbed through the paper, tutting and shaking her head at the lame headlines. "This is gonna be a loooong day," Stress groaned after she'd bought and glanced at the headlines. "It'll be a miracle if I sell twenty," Tango muttered bitterly behind her.

There was a smattering of accordance from the other girls, except for Fire and Ice, who were engaged in a semi-brawl on the ground about three yards away from everyone else.

"Fire! Ice! Get off the ground!" Tango shouted, noticing their fistfight. Russia and Irish rushed over to seperate the battling sisters.

"She said I'm fatter than Weasel!" Fire pointed an accusing finger at Ice, who shot back with, "She said I look like Morris's butt!" Almost everyone within hearing distance cracked up, except Russia.

"First of all, you guys look the same. Second, don't be vulgar. Third, if I catch you guys fighting again I'll toss you off in Brooklyn!" "Eww!" The twins gave identical looks of disgust. "Brooklyn boys smell!" Ice wrinkled her nose in disgust. "We won't fight again," Fire promised. "Yeah!" Ice added earnestly. "Okay, but you better be on your best behavior, today, especially after what went on yesterday." Fire and Ice exchanged mischevious glances before breaking away from the older girls and running off. Russia sighed, knowing that they'd get into some kind of trouble before the next edition was out.

As the girls dispersed, heading for their respective selling spots, Catch cought up with Russia, and the others all got a good laugh as the enthusiastic girl attempted to wrap a particularly frumpy, forest green and canary yellow scarf around the leader's neck as she tried to make a breakaway down the street.

* * *

The girls did not go out very often, especially without Russia's acknowledgment. A show at Medda's for an evening was fine, as long as you told Russia. Visiting a seamstress in lower Manhattan was fine, as long as you told Russia. Running off to a certain lodging house to spend the evening with a certain group of newsboys? Not fine. Even if you did tell Russia.

That is why they did not tell Russia. 'They' being Gimmick, Echo, Irish, Mouse, Morgen, Catch, Silver, Stress, Tango, and Trip.

The whole thing was Stress' idea. She had caught up with Jack when he was selling earlier that day and he'd invited her over to the LH for a round of poker that night. At first, she figured she would just sneak out and no one would miss her for a few hours. Then, Russia had been called to sort out a problem that one of the younger girls, a seven-year-old pixie of a newsie called Sass, had somehow created in the Bronx. Then, Stress decided to invite Tango and Irish. Then, Catch overheard and, meaning well, invited not only herself, but Gimmick and Echo as well. A few minutes later, Stress had slipped and mentioned the outing to Morgen, who asked to come and decided to bring Silver and Trip, and dragged Mouse along as well under heavy protest from the aforementioned bookworm.

So, after a spiralling series of events, the ten newsgirls slipped out of their lodging house, two-by-two, into the night and made their way over to the boys in lower Manhattan.

And imagine Jack Kelly's surprise when, not one, but TEN newsgirls showed up at that night for poker.

He stood in the doorway, grinning in disbelief. As they approached, he adjusted the cowboy hat on his head and said, "How'd you get the warden to let all of you out for the night?"

Stress sighed and said, "We simply sat down with Russia and had a nice talk and she realized that we're big girls and we can do what we want." Jack raised his eyebrows, obviously not believing a single word.

"It's true," Gimmick insisted as he moved out of the way to allow them entry. "Yeah, right," Jack smirked, knowingly, as he followed them.

As the girls entered, they were greeted warmly by a group of rowdy newsboys. Dutchy immediately latched onto Morgen and dealt her into a game with Specs, Racetrack, Pie Eater, and Kid Blink. Gimmick shoved Mush out of his chair and took his place at the table. Catch struck up a conversation about pocket watches with Kloppman, and Bumlets kissed Mouse on the cheek, causing the girl to blush and almost every other person in the room to catcall, shout, and emit other obnoxious noises to celebrate the moment.

"What, Russia let you off your leash or something?" Racetrack quipped, not looking away from his cards, as Silver passed behind him. The brunette tossed her curls and 'accidentally' knocked him in the back of the head with her elbow as she went on. "Hey!" Racetrack cried indignantly as he lost the pot and simultaneously massaged the back of his head.

Echo shamelessly flirted with Snoddy and Skittery in order to distract them, effectively winning right off the bat, as Tango materialized from somewhere with a bottle of something that was probably alcoholic and seated herself on Irish's lap before passing the bottle around.

Enjoying their night of freedom, the newsgirls flirted, gambled, shouted, drank, sang, and were generally merry. Tango, who was a little tipsy, and Catch, who was generally hyper, danced around the room while Stress and Trip clapped a rhythm.

"Come on, no way!" Boots cried as Irish and Echo cleaned him out once again. "You really don't know how to read a girl, Boots," Echo giggled. "Which is weird considering that you are one," Gimmick added from across the room. "Hey!" Boots frowned, while Echo and Irish laughed at his expense.

The festivities lasted for several hours, and only Mouse had the presence of mind to note that it was past ten, and Russia might very well have arrived back at the LH by then.

She broke away from Bumlets, Skittery, and the rest and hustled over to the table where Jack, Race, Catch, Silver, Blink, and Pie Eater were playing a hand.

"Silver!" Mouse leaned down to whisper in her friend's ear. "Russia's going to be back at the house any minute! We really need to go." Silver, caught up in the game, waved the younger girl away. Mouse sighed and moved over to Catch. "Catch, we gotta go! Russia's going to be ticked if we aren't there-"

Too late.

The room went quiet as Russia's tiny frame appeared in the doorway.

Boots, Snipeshooter, and some of the smaller boys that weren't in bed yet scampered out of the room.

Russia's steely gaze surveyed the room for a full minute before someone coughed and stood up.

"Uh, Russia... Well, we just decided that... I mean, you were gone so we couldn't... Yeah." Stress stammered quite eloquently.

Russia glared at her friend, who got the message. The girls began gathering themselves and heading out the door, breaking the utter silence before Jack sighed and stood up from his chair.

He sauntered over to Russia, stopping directly in front of her, folding his arms and staring down at her. The girls, aware of the fact that Russia might actually attempt to scratch Jack's eyes out if he chose to argue with her at that moment, froze on their way out the door.

"Russia." Jack said, calmly.

"Cowboy." Russia muttered through clenched teeth.

Catch squeaked unceremoniously and covered her eyes, while Gimmick tried to peer over Morgen's shoulder to get a better look.

"Let's you and me talk for a bit, okay?" Not waiting for an answer, Jack latched onto Russia's left forearm and literally pulled her up the stairs.

The rest of the newsies sat still for a moment, before Race crept over to the landing and peered up the staircase, listening intently for any sign of a struggle or argument. Random bits of yelling and general arguments were audible, and it was clear that it was going to last a while.

Race stepped back into the main room and hissed, "GO!"

The girls blew their last kisses and waved their goodbyes as Race directed them out the door, and watched them break out in a dead run in the direction of the East Side.

* * *

The girls' shoes on the cobblestone and heavy breathing were the only noise they made for half a mile before Irish, leading the group, slowed to a brisk walk, the other girls following suit.

"You think Russia's going to strangle Jack with the cord on his hat?" Catch wondered aloud. Gimmick scoffed and said, "I'm more afraid of what she's going to do to us."

Tango snorted, and the other girls looked over at the tall girl. "She won't do anything, not tonight." "How do you figure that?" Catch asked, genuinely curious. "She's been dealing with Smarty in the Bronx, and now Jack," Tango stated, matter-of-factly, "So she'll be too tired tonight. She might try to maim us in the morning, though."

"Great. I'll have sweet dreams, tonight," Echo groaned. "Oh, please, she's not going to hurt us," Tango slung her arm around Echo's shoulder. "She couldn't punch her way through a wet newspaper if her life depended on it."

It was true. Russia was not a very good phsyical fighter, much to her own chagrin. So, the girls were safe for the night, at least until Russia felt up to verbally soaking them the next morning.

They reached the LH near eleven o'clock, and decided to go straight to bed... until they realized that someone had clamped the door shut.

"What the... I didn't even know this door locked!" Irish declared, slightly amused, while Gimmick began pounding her fist on the door and Stress was yelling for someone to open up.

The lot of them quieted down when they heard Fire and Ice giggling inside.

"You little brats! Open this door!" Gimmick ordered. The twins answered with more giggles. "Girls, open the door, pleeeease?" Catch pleaded.

"No! You all left us here and went off to see the boys! Why didn't you ask if we wanted to come?" Fire shouted through the door.

"You're too little, Fire," Echo insisted. "Hey," Stress started, looking bewildered, "How'd you know where we went?" They could almost hear Fire roll her eyes. "You aren't exactly the best at keeping secrets, Stress. We heard you talking about it the bunk room earlier." "So, you guys ratted us out to Russia?" "Yeah. Because you deserve it. Maybe next time you'll know to include us!" Ice shrieked.

"This is so absurd," Mouse mused, crouching down and making herself comfortable on the wooden stoop.

"What, are you going to sleep there?" Trip questioned. "Yup." "Me too." And they all ended up in a heap on the front stoop, dozing until morning.

* * *

Silver woke with someone's ankle on her chin and somebody else's shoulder in her back.

Groaning, she shifted around, and shoved Gimmick's ankle off of her face, then extracted herself from the rest of the mass.

She yawned and stretched, stepping over her slumbering friends, into the wide-open door of the lodging house.

"Wait..."

She was a bit disoriented, but she couldn't quite recall... "Why'd we all sleep on the stoop?" She wondered aloud, combing her fingers through her hair.

"Fire and Ice locked you out and I didn't feel like waking you bummers up when I got back last night."

Silver froze, immediately recognizing the voice as belonging to Russia.

She spun slowly on her heel to face Russia, who was sprawled across a couch, thumbing through one of Mouse's books, absently twirling her hair around with an index finger.

"Heeey Russia." Russia tossed the book back onto a shelf and stood. "Morning, Silver."

"Are you going to kill me?" Russia chuckled. "Nope. I figure letting you all sleep in and miss the first edition is punishment enough for last night."

Silver cursed under her breath, glancing at the old wall-mounted clock and noting that it was already nine.

"How'd you get in last night?" Silver asked after a moment. Russia shrugged and said, "I figured you were all locked out since you were sleeping on the front steps, so I climbed the fire escape."

Silver mentally smacked herself. "Why didn't we think of that?"

"Come on, we better get the rest of 'em up. People keep giving them weird looks when they walk by." Russia sighed and led the way back out of the LH. As they came to the door, Silver asked, "So, how'd it go with Jack?"

Russia gave her a withering look. "I'm going to pretend you didn't ask that, Silver."

"Me, too."

* * *

A/N: Yeah, whatever, it sucks but the next chapter will be good because we get strike action! Yay! And there were a few hints in this chapter as to who ends up with you, just so you know D Later! 


	4. Strike!

A/N: STRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIKE!!!! Okay, sorry. Hehe. But, yeah, anyways this chapter was out a lot faster than the last two, right? Yeah? Cool. So, anyways, here's the beginning of the strike action. Russia's bitchyness really shines in this one, I think. Please forgive her erratic behavior. The deal here is that she's just a fifteen-year-old girl trying to act tough and keep everyone in line, yeah? K. I'm trying to make sure I'm giving all the other newsgirls enough spotlight, so please let me know if you think I'm leaving someone in the dust, because it's not on purpose! I'm just kind of forgetful. Also, Recherche- I love your new name! I really do, but ATM I am keeping it as Mouse. I promise I'll change it ASAP but I really didn't feel like going through this chapter and the last two and fixing the names and I just wanted to get this up. Sorry. I'll get to it with the next chapter!

* * *

Russia knew the day was bound to be a drag as soon as she woke. The first thing she did that morning was roll out of bed and onto the floor, a tangled mess of limbs and sheets. 

Gimmick's hysteric laughter at Russia's predicament didn't exactly provoke warm, fuzzy feelings, either.

"Gimmick, shut up." Russia ordered crossly as she slipped her blue dress on over her shift, at first sticking one arm through the collar instead of the sleeve, and then struggling to situate herself. When the dress was on, she reached under her pillow for her coin bag, which of course had fallen off the bed during the night, forcing Russia to kneel down on the floor and feel around under the bed for five minutes before locating it.

She dusted a few cobwebs and dust bunnies off the little velvet sack, the one luxury item she owned, and stood up. Somehow, in the process of tucking the bag into her dress pocket, the pocket tore off her dress and the bag hit the floor, the change clattering out with it.

Russia groaned as Trip, Morgen, and Irish all walked past on their way to the wash room. "You need any help?" Trip offered. Russia glared. "Point taken."

After collecting her coins, she stole a sewing kit from Catch's bunk and spent ten minutes roughly stitching the pocket back onto her dress. When she was finished, she had only enough time to splash water on her face and run a comb through her messy hair before tying it back and rushing back into the bunk room to tie her shoes on.

Of course, it took her three minutes to find her shoes before she could put them on.

Almost everyone else had already left for the distribution center when she was finally ready.

It seemed to take her twice as long as it usually did to get to the gate that morning, even though she was jogging pretty quickly. Being so late, she expected a bit of a line and to see some of the girls already milling about with their papers, so she was surprised to find everyone gathered around the window, shouting loudly back and forth. Old Mr. Crowley was standing behind the counter, seemingly flustered, waving his hands about and shrugging his shoulders apologetically every two seconds.

People moved out of Russia's way quickly as she made her way towards the window.

"Trip!" Russia called to Trip, who was closest to the window. Trip craned her neck to see Russia past the crowd and waved her over, before turning back to the group. "Russia's here, we'll see what she says," Trip said rather loudly to the girls crowded around the open shutters.

"What's going on here?" Russia demanded as she pushed past the last of the crowd and stood before Crowley, Trip, and the rest.

"They raised the price, Russia," Irish explained, "It's sixty cents a hundred now!" Russia blanched. "What?! Crowley, what the hell is this?" She turned on the old clerk. He held up his hands in surrender. "I'm sorry, Russia. I don't set the prices. It's Pulitzer's orders, not mine." "What's he trying to pull?" Fire cried from somewhere in the back. "Someone shut her up," Russia ordered before turning back to Crowley. "Is this for real? Ten cents?" Crowley nodded sadly. "I'm afraid so, girls."

Russia sighed and made a frustrated noise.

"What are we gonna do, Russia? I can't afford this." Silver spoke quietly in Russia's ear.

"None of us can afford it," Tango declared from Silver's other side. Russia nodded reluctantly at Tango's words, before sighing once more and pushing through the crowd a little bit, so that everyone would hear her.

She looked around at the varied newsies, mostly girls, but a few younger boys who'd probably been bullied out of another burrough, and took a deep breath before addressing them all.

"If you can buy your papes today, get in line and sell. If you can't, don't worry about it." There was indistinct chatter in response to the announcement. Russia silenced it with a wave of her hand. "If that means you aren't gonna have a place to stay tonight," she added, knowing that quite a few of the newsies boarded, "then go back to our lodging house. Nobody has to worry about paying for board tonight, okay? If you can't sell, go back to the lodging house. I'll figure this out."

Two-thirds of the newspaper peddlers dispersed from the crowd and shifted off in the direction of the LH. Russia turned back to those who were still there, forming a line beside the building. Only Stress, Trip, the twins, and Irish remained from Russia's closer circle. Walking along to the front of the line, she tried to give reassuring glances to her peers, but a bad feeling had settled in the pit of her stomach. She was lucky she'd sold well enough the day before to be able to buy her papers, but there was no way she'd be able to keep it up.

* * *

There couldn't have been a worse day for bad headlines. Russia was working her tail off, pulling everything she could think of trying to sell her papes. It was nearly noon, and she wasn't looking forward to eating the dozen or so papers she had left. 

It was a hot day, and the linen on her sleeves agitated the skin. She swiped the sweat from her forehead and headed for the nearest alley, hoping to find a chill in the shade.

She heard someone calling her, though, and whipped her head around in the direction of the voice. It was Catch.

Russia groaned, not wanting to deal with the girl at that particular moment, but she stopped and waited for the girl to reach her.

"Russia!" Catch exclaimed, a little short of breath. "Wow, Russia, you look awful." "Thanks. What's going on?" "Some of Jack's boys came by, they're lookin' for you!" "What do they want?" Russia began immediately in the direction that had Catch had just come from. Catch struggled to match her pace, but kept talking, "It's Snoddy and Pie Eater. It's got something to do with the jack-up. Something's going on down there, but I left to come find you before they started talking about it," Catch explained as Russia sped up, and she struggled once again to match the leader's strides.

Despite the heat and crowds, they made it to the lodging house quickly. Russia blazed past the kids sitting on the stoop, and almost froze at the overcrowded conditions of the interior before remembering that she'd sent them all there that morning.

"Where are they?" Russia asked Mouse, who was (what else?) reading. The quiet girl glanced away from her book and pointed towards the back of the room.

Russia waded through the sea of people who hadn't gotten their papers that morning, spotting Tango and Silver near the back wall with Pie Eater, Snoddy, and Snipeshooter, whose enthusiastic expressions fell to apprehensive ones when they caught sight of Russia making her way to the back.

"Catch, get some of these kids upstairs or something before someone breaks a leg," Russia called over her shoulder before putting her hands on her hips and addressing the visitors.

"Well?" Pie Eater nudged Snoddy, who swallowed hard before beginning. "Well, it's the jack-up." Russia nodded. "We ain't gonna stand for it," Pie Eater added, "We ain't gonna let 'em do that to us." Russia raised her eyebrows incredulously. "So what ARE you going to do?" The boys exchanged looks before Snoddy cleared his throat. "We're goin' on strike."

Russia's eyes widened like all the others in the now-silent room. "What's strike mean?" A flaxen-haired boy whispered to his friend. "Shhh," his friend shushed him.

"What? Are you kidding?" Russia asked after regaining her composure. "Well, no," Pie Eater said, "Manhattan's goin' on strike. And we think you should, too."

Jaws dropped at that point, and in the silence, you could have heard a pin drop.

"Excuse me?" Russia was stunned for a second time. "We all need to go on strike. I mean if it's just Manhattan, ain't gonna matter, but if we all go on strike then-" "We're not going on strike," Russia interrupted. "You're crazy for even thinking about it. I bet this was Kelly's idea, too, right?" "Well, yeah, but-" "But what? It's a dumb idea. Going on strike? Who do you guys think you are? What, you think because you stop selling that anybody will care? They'll just get other people to sell. Easy as that. You're just putting yourselves on the line for no reason!" Russia's face was red and her hands were balled into fists at her sides as she spoke.

Irish materialized beside her and said, "Well, maybe we should. I mean, this jack-up's gonna ruin all of us. We can't let them do that to us, Russia." A few cheers rose up out of the semi-empowered newsies, before Russia quickly quashed the feeling. "They already did it, Irish," she shot a look at the boys, "And we aren't going to risk ourselves just to help out a bunch of angry little boys. We'll figure something else out."

At that point, Snipeshooter stepped forward, foolishly, and raised his arms above his head. "C'mon, Russia! Don't you want to be like the newsboys? Join the cause?"

Several newsgirls in the near vicinity almost choked on their laughter, as Snipeshooter realized what he'd just said and experienced Russia's wrath as she glared at him. He had nothing further to say as she stared at his feet and hid behind Snoddy.

"Actually, Russia," Tango stepped toward her, "We talked about it before you got here. We, all the girls and everyone, think it's a good idea."

Russia's eyes flashed as she stared down the taller, darker girl. "Oh, you do?" Tango nodded, unimpressed with Russia's intimidation tactics.

"Well, then, Tango, if you want to strike, be my guest. But anyone here who wants to strike is sleeping on the streets tonight."

Irish huffed before storming out of the room, Tango at her heels, while the boys made futile attempts to convince Russia to change her mind.

"We aren't striking. Period. So you can go tell Cowboy good luck. I don't want to see any of you talking to any of my girls about this, either. What I say goes around here, boys." Russia ranted, before rather brusquely instructing the disheartened youths to get out of her sight.

As Silver guided the boys out, everyone else stared at Russia, who was standing by the wall, trying to grasp the situation. After a long pause, she looked up. "Stop staring! It was dumb idea, anyway."

Everyone glanced at their neighbors with skepticism.

"Hey! It's true. That strike's gonna fall through the second those boys realize they're going up against Joseph freaking Pulitzer! We're NOT getting involved!" Russia then stormed about the room, ranting in Russian and gesticulating wildly.

As she stomped right out of the lodging house, Gimmick looked around at her neighbors.

"Uh. Why is the crazy Russian our 'leader', again?"

* * *

Russia didn't like it when things took more than about five minutes to figure out. In fact, it frustrated her to no end when she couldn't solve something. She'd led the girls because she was a quick thinker, she could talk her way out of anything. And at first she thought that's what happened when she sent Snoddy, Snipes, and Pie Eater away. Then, she'd second-guessed herself. 

She'd never questioned any of her decisions before.

But as soon as she'd caught the dismayed looks on all the other kids' faces, a tingly feeling of guilt or regret or something like that had overcome her.

So she swore like a drunken sailor and ran away from her problem.

And it still kept plaguing her.

Why was it so hard to oppose the strike? It was a stupid idea, right? They were just going to be humiliated and probably starve to death while scabs hired by the newspapers sold the papes. She had the East Side newsgirls to think about. She had to admit, the fact that she resented the boys so much influenced her to go against them. She really hated to do what they wanted her to do. But, was she a traitor to newsies in general if she refused to help?

She nicked an apple from a busy fruit stand when her stomach began growling incessantly, and kept moving down the street.

What was she to do? Let the boys walk all over them and order them around, just like they'd done before Russia took over? Should she defy them, partly just because they were boys? And wasn't that just as bad as the boys treating her badly because she was a girl?

Her head hurt. She tossed the grainy apple core on the ground and collapsed onto a stack of wooden crates.

What was that gnawing feeling in her gut, and that prickling in her chest that kept telling her she was making the wrong decision? Was there any way to make it go away, besides conceding and joining in on the strike?

It took her three more minutes, but she finally came up with something.

* * *

"Silver, Morgen, Tango, Trip, Mouse, Gimmick- upstairs. Now." 

Russia's lilting voice startled almost everyone in the main room, especially those whose names she had called.

Waiting a moment, and seeing that they weren't moving, Russia barked, "Now!" and led the way up the stairs as the girls followed apprehensively.

Ordering the dozen or so children in the bunkroom to vacate the premises, Russia leaned against the end of a bunk and mulled over her plan impatiently as Morgen and Silver settled themselves on an adjacent bunk, Mouse settled on the floor next to it, and Tango and Gimmick propped themselves up against it.

Russia gazed at them steadily for a moment before taking a deep breath.

"This strike thing... I don't think we should join, but we gotta know what's going on over there. I mean, we have to look out for ourselves, but we should be aware of the situation, right?" Her audience nodded slowly, not getting the point.

"Spies." Russia received five blank stares.

"I need the five of you to disguise yourselves and figure out what you can, and keep me updated on what's happening."

"Wait, I lost you at 'disguise'," Gimmick interjected. "Are you saying that you want us to... to...-" "Dress up like boys?" Russia finished. Gimmick nodded. Russia smirked. "Now you're getting it."

"So, let me get this straight," Tango peered at Russia, "You won't let us join the boys, but you want us to spy on them?" "Yeah."

"Except for Morgen," Russia turned to the youngest newsgirl in the room. "Morgen, I need you to talk to Dutchy. Find out what you can, you know." Morgen paled considerably.

"I don't know, Russia. It'd be like using my brother. I don't want to spy on my brother."

Russia refrained from growling in frustration, as her plan was not being met by the support she'd expected.

She shoved Silver over a little on the bed and plopped down next to Morgen, tossing an arm over her shoulder.

"Morgen, you aren't really going to be spying on him. It's just stuff he'd tell you anyway, right? Only you're just really going to try and be more interested than normal and you'll tell me if he says anything worthwhile about the strike. So it'd just be like you're ... passing on information."

"That's the same as spying, Russia," Tango stated matter-of-factly.

Russia swatted at the older girl without turning away from Morgen, who was mentally deliberating.

Morgen looked up after a while at Russia and smiled. "Okay. I guess it'll be alright if I just tell you the strike stuff. He'd blab away about that, anyway."

Russia clapped her on the back and grinned. "Thanks, Morgen!"

Standing up, she pulled Morgen with her, had her face the other girls.

"Don't you want to be like Morgen, girls? Join the cause?" Russia tried, poorly, to imitate Snipeshooter's gravelly tone. Gimmick snorted, Tango rolled her eyes good-naturedly, Mouse giggled, and Silver cackled loudly.

"Yeah, I guess I'm up for it. I'm a pretty good sleuth, if I do say so myself," Gimmick puffed out her chest and pretended to show off her muscles to the girls.

"Me too! Anything for the cause!" Silver joined in the merrymaking with Gimmick, who had begun pulling Morgen around and was challenging the girl to arm wrestling.

"Mouse, you in?" The blonde snapped her head up to stare at Russia, her hazel eyes wide. She nodded, not exactly sure why she'd been chosen in the first place.

Russia felt someone tap her shoulder, and she spun to face Tango, the dark girl looking down at her slightly because of the height difference.

"I'm in, Russia," Tango said. Russia stepped back and they spit-shook, because it just seemed right at the time. "Don't be wrong about this, Russia," Tango called as the leader left the bunkroom and her five 'spies' continued to misbehave.

Russia stopped at the top of the stairs, and peered back at Tango, who was being pulled down into a dogpile by Morgen.

"I won't be," Russia answered firmly, more confidence in her voice than there really was in her heart.

* * *

A/N: Next chapter should be up pretty soon, I hope. We'll have more of everyone's favorite newsies and maybe even a cameo by SPOT CONLON HIMSELF! Yeah, I know, you're excited now. I don't really know how this turned out this way, LMFAO, I really wasn't planning this chapter to be so lame. Anyhow, please leave me some reviews? I love you? 


	5. Brooklyn to the Rescue

A/N: Wow. This one took a while, but I finally figured I just had to crank it out and set myself up so that the next few chapters will flow easily. Now with this set up I definitely know how I'll write out the next two or three chapters. Sorry this really only features the six spies and Russia, but next chapter will be even longer and will encompass all the cast! So please just tell me what you think, and oh yeah, sorry for those of you who wanted the Spot/Russia confrontation this chapter, I just couldn't fit it in. It's the next chapter, for sure. It's going to be mighty entertaining!

* * *

"Are my suspenders on right?" "...No. How did you manage to put them on wrong, Trip?"

"I don't know. Boys' clothes are confusing!" Trip whined as Tango adjusted her suspenders, which they'd taken off one of the bigger newsboys camping out in the LH.

"Shh, guys. You're gonna wake them up!" Russia scolded, coming into the washroom, the one place not completely overflowing with sleeping newsies.

"Why'd we have to get up so early, anyway, Russia?" Silver mumbled, messing with the hat she'd nicked from another of the boys. To be honest, quite a few of the boys would wake up realizing that things they'd fallen asleep with ... like suspenders and hats, were missing.

"'Cause no one's gotta know about this, okay? 'Spose someone runs off and tells the guys, then they'll spot you like that 'cause they'll be looking for you. And then we won't get the kind of information I want," Russia explained hastily, helping Mouse adjust the shoulders on the three-sizes-too-large shirt she was wearing.

"Okay, guys," Gimmick called, coming out of a toilet stall, "Can you or can you not tell that I've got a chest?"

"You're screwed in the head, Gimmick," Morgen giggled, handing the other girl her cap.

"Okay, okay, enough," Russia hissed, looking over her operatives. She squinted, scrutinizing over the minute details. If you didn't look that close, and the girls kept their heads down and their caps pulled over their forehead, they looked like really lean boys. Well, okay, she really just hoped that the boys would be too distracted with the strike to notice her girls.

"How do we look?" Tango exhaled audibly. Russia wanted to laugh. She would be the easiest to notice, and she prayed that Tango would keep a low profile.

"I'm crossing my fingers, if that tells you anything," Morgen snorted. She was the sole operative not dressed like a boy that morning, because Dutchy probably would get suspicious if his sister waltzed up in full newsboy garb and started questioning him.

"Now, Morgen, you know what to do, right? Stick with Dutchy, ask as many questions as you can. And do what he says. If he says get out of there, get out of there, yes?" Morgen nodded obediently, sighing internally due to the fact that she'd already heard the instructions twelve times in the last hour.

"And, you five, keep your heads down, got it? If any of those boys recognizes you they're gonna know something's up. Don't say anything, just keep your ears open. Get out of there as fast as you can if anything happens. We're not going to get into any of their fights- I don't care if you can take care of yourself or not," Russia raised her voice as all the girls but Mouse opened their mouths to protest, "Just get your tails back here. Stay only as long as you have to."

"Are we ready, then?" Gimmick asked, rubbing her hands together gleefully.

"Guess so!" Trip answered. They all turned to leave.

"Hey!"

All six looked back at Russia.

"Keep quiet getting out of here. Don't let anyone see you."

They nodded, and set off once more.

"Good luck," Russia added, not sure if any of them heard her.

* * *

"Morgen, you go ahead of us! That way we ain't all together and Dutchy ain't suspicious."

Morgen nodded to Gimmick and scampered off ahead of the rest.

The sun was just beginning to invoke its daily wave of summer heat as the five trooped along.

"You nervous?" Tango asked Mouse, who was gnawing on her fingernails.

The smaller girl looked up and nodded silently.

"Well, don't be," Gimmick admonished loudly, "Nothing's gonna happen. They'll stand around and yell at scabbers and then be on their way after a bit. Doubt much is gonna happen today."

Mouse looked only slightly reassured.

"Look, Mouse," Silver approached, "Russia wouldn't have sent us if it was a bad idea, you know? Don't you trust her?"

Mouse nodded slightly, but Tango surreptitiously rolled her eyes.

"And look on the bright side," Gimmick grinned.

All four of her companions turned to her.

"We make fine-looking boys."

* * *

"They got Crutchy in the refuge!" Morgen hissed, attempting to be heard above the shouts and jeers of the striking newsboys about her.

"What?" Silver exclaimed. Morgen shushed her, but all present newsies were wrapped up in the action.

"Yeah. Got him locked up in there. Jack and the boys ain't happy, Silver. Dutchy said that-"

"Morgen!"

Morgen stopped mid-sentence, glanced over her shoulder to see Dutchy making his way toward her.

"Damn! Beat it, Dutchy's coming!"

At her order, Silver slipped off into another part of the crowd, running into Tango on her way.

"What'd she say?" Tango muttered as they were slightly jostled. "Crutchy's in the refuge," Silver answered. "How-"

Tango was interrupted by a call from the front of the newsie mob.

"Let's soak 'em for Crutchy!"

"That was Jack!" Gimmick squealed from about twelve yards away.

"Don't squeal, dummy! Boys don't squeal!" Trip admonished, as they surged forward with the others, through the gates and into a crowd of scabs.

The noise was deafening, and Mouse was being tossed at random about the crowd, no match for the raucous, sturdy boys surrounding her. Tango grabbed her by the suspenders and began pulling her to the back of the crowd.

"Are you okay?" Tango hollered. Mouse nodded, but both of them jumped in shock at the clang of the large gates being forced shut behind them.

"Uh oh..." Silver muttered, as a rather intimidating group of men came out the green doors atop the dock, one of the largest wielding a chain and heading straight for Jack, who looked nearly shaken. Her concern doubled when she noticed Gimmick and Trip at the very head of the crowd, being manhandled by the strikers' aggressors.

"Oh, no!" Mouse squeaked, her eyes wide as she saw Jack fall back against the steps.

Gimmick was elbowing her way out of the grip of a particularly large scab when she heard the roar from the crowd. Looking up, each of the newsgirls in turn rallied with the boys at the sight of the easily distinguished Brooklyn newsies.

"Yeah, Brooklyn!" Trip screamed, surprising the man who she had just punched awkwardly in the shoulder. "I mean. Yeah, Brooklyn!" She shouted again, but in a deep imitation of a man's voice, still sounding determinedly feminine.

The commotion before seemed tame as, in what seemed like quick succession, Spot descended into the crowd and let in a rush of Brooklynites from outsides the gates.

Tango and Silver whooped along with the rest of the celebrating crowd. Mouse stood meekly by, with a tiny, pleased grin on her face. She could distinctly make out a cry of "Victoryyyyyyyyyyy!" that most certainly came from Trip and Gimmick, who were dancing about in a circle with several other newsies.

A man she none of them recognized, took a picture of Jack, Spot, Boots, and most of the other Manhattan boys. The flash of the camera dazzled Gimmick's eyes, but it didn't stop her from dancing around like a maniac and shouting exuberantly.

"Yeahh, newsies!"

"Gimmick?!"

Gimmick froze in place, staring in horror at Mush, whose expression mirrored hers. A moment passed before she quickly lunged forward, screaming, "No!" and pulled his hat down to cover his eyes.

"Run!" She mouthed to Trip, who was closest. Trip nodded and turned quickly, but managed to smack straight into Skittery, who, in the heat of the moment, grabbed her by the shoulders and began dancing around with her.

"Agfherrr," she mumbled, her mouth momentarily paralyzed by the jolt his touch brought to her.

"Hurry!" Gimmick hollered from where she was standing near the gates with Tango, Mouse, and Silver. The four girls glanced nervously between Trip, who was looking apoplectic, and Racetrack, who was pushing toward Jack with an anxious look on his face.

Reluctantly, Trip stepped away from Skittery, who shrugged and went off to celebrate with someone else.

She tore toward the gates, and Racetrack barely made it to Jack in time to point them out, giving Jack a moment's glance at them before they disappeared into the crowd of people outside.

"You sure it as them?" Jack asked. "So sure I'd bet on it!" This statement really wasn't a comfort to Jack, but he believed Racetrack, nonetheless. The tall one did look suspiciously like Tango, and he'd definitely seen Morgen hanging around with Dutchy earlier.

"Good eye, Race," Jack clapped him on the back before going back to celebrating happily with David and Les.

* * *

"Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God."

"Shut up, Trip!" Tango snapped.

"No! Russia's going to kill us!"

"Not if we don't tell her they recognized us!"

"We can't lie to her!"

"It's not lying... it's just improving the truth a little."

"Oh, God, you sound like Jack Kelly!"

"...I'm not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult."

"Well-"

Trip and Tango's argument was interrupted by Morgen, who was calling their names and running after them, desperate to catch up.

"Jeez, run a little faster next time, guys. I almost died trying to keep up!" She wheezed unattractively.

"We have bigger things to worry about than your potential death, Morgen! Racetrack saw Gimmick and now Jack's gonna know everything!" Silver shrieked, not in a hysterical panic, but getting there.

"Oh, wow," Morgen mused, "Russia's gonna murder you all."

"Thanks for the encouragement, Morgen," Gimmick spat, feeling guilty for being the one who'd given them away.

"Well, I mean. You could just not tell Russia that he saw you," Morgen suggested.

"Thank you! That's what I've been trying to say," Tango cried.

"I've got so much stuff to tell her anyway, from what Dutchy told me before he basically shoved me behind a wall and told me not to go past the gates, that she probably won't have time tonight to really question you guys."

"Yeah, seems okay, for now," Silver reasoned. Mouse, Gimmick, and Trip exchanged nervous glances.

"So it's settled," Tango announced, "We'll just omit the fact that they know we were there when we tell Russia what happened."

"Yeah," Morgen grinned. "Besides, what's the chance that Jack is really going to confront her about it, anyway, right?"

Everyone froze in silence, only half a block away from the lodging house. Even Tango joined in the trading of hesitant looks between the five cross-dressing newsgirls.

Morgen's grin faded.

"Right?"

* * *

A/N: FINALLY! I AM FINISHED! Again, really sorry this has taken so long. I sort of abandoned the newsie fandom lately. It seems a bit in shambles, really, nothing's updated as quickly as things once were, it's kind of sad... Oh well, anyway, next chapter should be up within two days or so and please review and thanks to those of you who actually read this. Oh and, to Brockie, I swear I will get around to changing Mouse's nickname soon, just didn't feel like going through tonight and changing them all. I've been shoveling snow all day from the stupid Nor'easter and my hands actually hurt typing this and yeah... I'm also just lazy like that ha. Okay so buh-bye and see you all again soon! Very, very soon! REVIEW! 


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